A Tale of Two Celestial Bodies
by CountessEricka
Summary: One Witch. One Synthetic Human. It only takes two celestial bodies to create infinite love. Whether its comforting one from the dangers of nightmares, or the struggles of living a human life. Maybe the trouble of finding private space within a large sanctuary of Avengers. Somehow, Wanda and Vision make their relationship happen. Because love is for souls, not bodies.
1. Everybody Hurts

**WARNING: CONTAINS DESCRIPTIONS OF SELF-HARM AND BLOOD.**

* * *

Vision understands the prospects of life. Joy and despair. The moment he became born, however, nothing about the subject of self-harm stored itself inside his mind. Maybe because he couldn't believe that a large majority of humans could feel so...lonely. Hurt.

As her husband, however, Vision would promise the world that he would make Wanda Maximoff's life important. She wasn't alone. Everybody hurts sometimes, and it's okay to cry. But she will never be alone.

 _To see if we could become something more_.

That day, Wanda Maximoff and Vision became something more. Something that their family and friends would remember them by.

Vision's left hand gripped Wanda's palm, and his right relaxed along her waist. Not too firm; not too loose. Just right. Wanda knew how secure she felt surrounded by his embrace. Even his adorable groom suit with the red bowtie kept Wanda floating above clouds. The touch of their hands mirrored the warm hold on her whenever Vision looped his arms around her delicate body. Physical contact never applied to anyone but her family, but now, _he_ was her family. Everyone who gathered around the couple became her family. They provided sanctuary, comfort, and amusement. Exactly what she felt familiar with.

That's what triggered the tears. All of a sudden, Wanda didn't want to dance. No matter how refreshing her husband's gaze appeared, nothing prevented the family who she needed here right now. Her heels lost balance, causing Wanda almost to collapse. Luckily, she remained upright in order to find stability that wouldn't embarrass either of them.

As soon as Wanda slipped from Vision's grasp, he caught her with both hands now on her waist. With a voice like silk, he asked, "Wanda? What's the matter?"

Raggedly breathing through her mouth, Wanda stared into Vision's eyes. For the benefit of his safety and welfare, he disguised himself into his human form - Victor Shade. Nobody wanted a perfect wedding ruined by the Black Order, who desired the infinity stone lodged in his forehead. However, despite how Wanda loved Vision' unique synthetic body, she adored the humanistic features he developed.

As a human, his eyes were extremely celeste that even the sky nor the ocean couldn't compete with their beauty. The hair: a golden colour as handsome as Prince Charming. She couldn't force guilt into those eyes, not because of her memories. Without anybody forcing her, Wanda promised to keep the past in its position. Yet she couldn't stop those tiny reminders that triggered an entire avalanche of memories she wished to forget.

 _Come on, everybody in this room hurts sometimes. They're here today for encouragement. Be strong, just like them._

Glancing at Tony Stark - the man who stole her parents' lives, but also created this wonderful man before her - Wanda shook her head and whispered, "I feel like I'm gonna faint..."

Vision opened his mouth but closed it. He scanned their surroundings until he discovered an empty seat with a pitcher of water beside it. Gripping his right arm around her waist, he guided his wife towards the area where hundreds of eyes wouldn't intimidate her.

Wanda's stomach churned; the room wasn't the only thing spinning. Dabbing her delicate fingertips underneath her eyes, she mumbled, "I'm sorry for ruining this..."

Only when they understood each other briefly, Vision could recall the day he caught Wanda experiencing this similar crisis for the first time.

* * *

 **3 Weeks After Ultron**

Balancing two plates across one arm and a steaming mug of coffee in the other, Vision trudged towards Wanda's room with the reoccurring voice in his mind coaxing _do not drop this._

Perching the blue porcelain mug on a nearby table in the hallway, Vision twisted the doorknob and peeked his head through the slit. The white curtains remained drawn, but just enough sunlight peered through the fabric so he could spot Wanda in bed. "Good morning, Miss Maximoff. I brought you some-"

Before he could present his especially-made breakfast after hours on studying cookbooks, Vision paused. Wanda wasn't asleep. Her body was upright on her bed. Wait, what was she doing? Reading? Playing her guitar? He could listen to her melodious tunes on that spectacular instrument for hours.

Wanda yelped, fumbling with the blanket beside her. One hand covered her bare arm as she squeaked, "I—what are you doing?! Doors are made for a reason, you know."

Detecting her distress, Vision bowed his head. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you, but I-"

" _Disturbed me?_ " Wanda mocked, "Vision, you should know better than entering people's bedrooms without knocking first!"

Something about Wanda seemed shifty. Like she hid a threatening secret that could potentially change his views on her forever. Not that he'd ever see her as anything but a beautiful adult with astonishing powers.

Vision nodded, "Once again, I'm truly sorry."

His eyes gleamed brighter than the stars, which Wanda failed to ignore. Maybe she could forgive him. After all, she rarely encountered a synthetic human who apologised. If the Captain or Clint Barton caught her in this act, she wouldn't have escaped their burden. Getting ready to escort him out the room, Wanda's heart plummeted into her stomach once Vision rose his voice again.

"What are you hiding within your bedsheets, Miss Maximoff?" he gestured to the blanket succumbed underneath Wanda's arm. The object's handle scarcely peeked through.

Cheeks burning; shoulders shivering, Wanda stumbled, "I-It's none of your-"

"Miss Maximoff, you're bleeding," Vision began gliding toward Wanda. The dripping liquid from her arm triggered an immediate reaction inside his mind. Humans shouldn't hide their pain, including Wanda Maximoff.

A trembling wave shook through Wanda's body. She gasped as a drop of blood collapsed onto her bedsheets. Shielding her forearm with her right palm, she claimed, "That's...just a scratch."

A glint of silver peeked between her blanket. It might've been unnoticed if the colour hadn't contrasted with scarlet. Vision's eyebrows furrowed as he pointed toward the knife, "Cutlery is commonly kept in the kitchen, am I incorrect?"

She attempted to gulp the agitating lump lodged between her throat. Scratching dry paint from her fingernails, Wanda mumbled, "It takes the pain away."

His mouth opened; no words escaped. How could he respond upon catching Wanda causing unreasonable pain to herself? Vision always wished to develop knowledge about Wanda Maximoff - this wasn't her. Nevertheless, his palm reached out so he could comfort her, "I didn't realise that you were in pain before, I'm-"

Before Vision's synthetic skin touched her soft flesh, Wanda snatched her arm away from his grip. "Let me guess, you're sorry. _Are you_? Not once has somebody asked me if I'm okay, especially after Pietro. Everyone just assumes that I've moved on with my life, just because my skills have improved. No. I'm _still_ suffering. The only family I had left was taken from me, but what can I do? I can't keep crying myself to sleep because I'd have to wash these sheets every day."

Compared to Miss Romanov, Wanda's voice remained minimal. Screams and shouts couldn't aid her frustration - a sore throat was all she received. Maybe she didn't want Vision hearing her sudden outburst. More so, she pretended this was another lonely night where she would soothe herself to sleep through encouragement or words of grief.

Why did life decide to steal Pietro so soon?

A tear trickled down her cheek. Rubbing her puffy cheeks, Wanda lowered the knife onto her skin once again and stated, "Cutting is quicker and easier, and certainly shows me what I deserve."

"Miss Maximoff...!" Vision's voice amplified. The knife pressed into her skin but barely caused a slit once he grasped the utensil from her grip. No matter how devastating Wanda's expression appeared - eyes glowing like a simple blink could murder - Vision relaxed his nerves knowing that she couldn't apply pain to herself again. "I'm not entitled to change your decisions. I respect your ways of thinking. But this is obscure to how Captain Rogers or Miss Romanoff would handle things."

Wanda released a dry laugh, "So you're saying what I'm doing is stupid?"

Vision shook his head, "Far from that. What I'm advising is that maybe you should communicate with your teammates regularly. I have had multiple conversations with Captain Rogers and Miss Romanov about their recent missions or their social welfare, and I find a significant difference in their posture. They are not so rigid, but content to be comforted by one another. This may not matter, but Mr Stark suffers similarly to you. Whenever he seeks comfort, I advise him to remember that it is okay to feel pain and cry. Maybe it's for the best. According to my databases, it's unhealthy to keep your emotions bottled up."

Glancing sideward at Vision, Wanda pondered about how heroes as strong as Steve and Natasha suffered from traumatic experiences. And Tony. She supposed all those emotions were shielded with the Iron Man suit. Yet, she couldn't understand. They laughed together, practised with the team every day with another level of motivation. She couldn't understand how such courageous people spent a few evenings stressing about their mistakes. However, Wanda questioned why she had even _let_ these mistakes dominate her.

What would her parents say? _Mistakes are the steps to success._

Even Clint - a man with an entire family yet to lose - encouraged her strength to break free in Sokovia.

She couldn't fail them now. Not Pietro. Not Clint. Not her parents.

Not Vision, either.

Vision perched his hand on her own, which fell limp without the utensil. From Miss Romanov's point of view, this was labelled as an appropriate gesture to reveal that you cared deeply for someone. His mission aimed to make Wanda feel part of a family. "You don't have to accept my offer, but I would be more than willing to discuss anything that is going on inside your mind."

Finally, Wanda's shoulders relaxed. Her cheeks flushed when their hands touched. Warm air surrounded her body, a rather pleasant feeling besides despair. She nodded, "I'd like that."

Vision repeated her actions before pointing to her plate of steaming food. "Begin with eating your breakfast. That will provide energy and motivation to start a great day ahead of you."

A smile stretched across her face. Goosebumps invaded her skin. Smiling felt so alien after Pietro's death because Vision had become the first person to make her smile again. She apologised, "Oh Vision, I'm sorry for acting like a bitch."

"No need to apologise, Miss Maximoff." Vision rose from the bed, tilting his head, "Everybody hurts sometimes, and all they need is a sudden outburst to rid those emotions."

Synthetic humans could understand emotions. Wanda knew how dumbstruck she appeared - there wasn't a single professional reply she could say.

"No need to be formal, Vision." Wanda smiled, "Please just call me Wanda."

A smile crept across his face. Excluding her family, she hadn't witnessed a more beautiful sight that warmed her heart in ages. "I think that would suit rather nicely."

Maybe this was a beginning of an unlikely friendship that Wanda always needed.

* * *

That unlikely friendship transformed into something more.

Ever since that day, Vision became everything that Wanda ached for in order to prevent her self-harming again. Every hug treated better than medicine. Those turned into nights spend together in the depths of midnight, sharing how well they understood their abilities. Vision's mind opened for Wanda one evening - nothing but wisps of scarlet and gold twirled around the couple in his mind. That's all he wanted: love.

Love forced you into crazy actions. Yet when it came to comforting those you trusted the fate of your soul with, nothing else required more attention.

"No, please do not imply that." Vision raised her hand toward his lips, pecking her palm and the top of her hand. "I'll always put your welfare before any other social event. You are more important to me than any other being in this universe."

Squeezing his fingers, Wanda grinned, "You really are a cheesy husband."

"I can't say if I like cheese, Wanda." Vision smirked, "I'm not one who consumes food."

Scott Lang - a hero that became an amusing friend for Wanda - offered her a handkerchief, which Wanda dabbed her cheeks with delicate movements. Once her sight cleared, she mumbled, "It's just, everywhere that I look, there are certain people I wish to find. Pietro, my mother and father. But...I realise that they're not here, and it makes me feel emptier than before."

Vision cupped her hands, kissing every inch of soft skin that lay upon her powerful bones. "I'll always understand your loss, and I would not ever try to force this grief away from you with stubbornness."

He raised his kneeling position. Like a gentleman, he bowed and extended his hand. "Shall we dance? I don't want to disappoint you or my family."

Wanda giggled. He always knew how to treat her like a princess, even when she never asked him for it. Resting her palm on his, she hummed, "I'm so lucky to have you."

Splats and sequins of stars spread above them, lighting up Wanda's dress as her husband twirled the across the dance floor. She admired his warm hand on her back and the satisfying presentation of their feet gliding together in unison. During their dance, Vision treated her like a newborn bird learning how to fly, her legs taking flight across the dance floor and her arms outstretching towards the beautifully painted sky.

Wanda couldn't count how many times she had squished Vision's foot under her own. Still, he smiled brightly as their heels clicked over the ballroom floor. He watched as her hair bounced more with each move and beat.

The slow music twirled like strong thread around them, binding their marriage forever. Wanda rested her forehead against his, allowing Vision to grasp her waist with both hands and sway them both around the dance floor. Lyrics poured into her ears. Each strum of a guitar sent shivers down her spine and arms. They stared so deeply into each other's eyes, almost causing an overflow of tears inside Wanda.

Never would she have imagined marrying a man so...perfect. Maybe that seemed too fairytale-like. Yet, calling Vision her one true love brought a gorgeous warmth inside her heart that Wanda wished would remain forever. Their celestial forms were unbreakable; bound with ribbons and ropes crafted with love.

To fly or to fall, Wanda would remain beside Vision no matter how their future enemies attempted to tear them apart.

"You will never be alone with me, Wanda." Vision insisted. After kissing the tip of her nose, he rested his hand against her silky hair and swayed their bodies to the music.

"I love you," Wanda replied. Her head rested against his chest, enjoying the harmonious rhythm of his humming.

She realised the absence of her blood-relatives wouldn't spoil their special day; their spirits soothed her pain in that moment, dancing with Vision.


	2. Perfect

Based on _Perfect_ by Ed Sheeran.

* * *

The first sight Vision beheld was Wanda Maximoff. Her scarlet lips curved into a smile as his eyelids blinked away the sleep. As a synthetic human, Vision would've played his daily routine inside his mind. Somehow, his first thought wasn't about training or brewing Mr. Stark a coffee. His first thoughts were about how Wanda's eyes replicated a canvas that Picasso could've painted a spectacular piece of art across.

They were beautiful.

Once his hands rummaged across the bedsheets, Wanda followed his lead and curled her fingers around his. Pain pulsed across his chest and forehead, something more excruciating than just being slammed into concrete. Yet, once he remembered how soft her skin was, the pain faded.

Wanda hummed as their skin touched, "I was wondering when you'd wake up."

Vision squeezed her hand, "I'm sorry to keep you waiting, though I wasn't expecting you to be here."

She smiled, "Well, isn't that a nice surprise to wake up to?"

A light brighter than the sun could provide constructed Wanda's smile. In between, Vision also glimpsed at the pain. How beautifully wonderful he felt knowing that Wanda Maximoff fought through these times of trauma, yet shoved them aside her with the acceptance of herself.

Not only had the Black Order revealed how death almost felt like, but insecurity also caused his pain. How young he was experiencing love for the first time. Vision understood there were infinite types of love: family, friendship, unrequited, forbidden, and romantic. Love hadn't been assigned a definition, with the exception of Wanda's beautiful face next to the word.

He hoped she knew how beautiful she was. Inside and out.

Attempting to mirror her beautiful smile, Vision replied, "Of all the surprises, seeing you is beyond compare."

Attempting to straighten his posture, Vision pushed himself away from the bed only to receive a scorching punch of pain to his stomach. A yelp escaped his throat. His breathing became ragged. Only the tender touch of Wanda's palm across his shoulder soothed the sensation. He struggled sitting up beside her, but that wouldn't stop his careful grip around Wanda's wrist.

"You need to rest your body," Wanda murmured. She knew even her average volume in speaking would've pierced Vision's hearing. "I'll get anything you need, you just promise to let yourself recover."

Vision wouldn't argue. Leaning his head back against the pillow, he heaved a desperate sigh. Touching her hand wasn't enough. He wanted her figure resting inside his arms, secure and content within his comfort. See? Love can be capable of attacking naïve minds.

"I was hoping to share affection with you again," Vision admitted. His eyes never tore from her endearing expression, something he loved most about her. "Out of all my memories, I'll never forget that moment."

Chuckling at his cheesiness, Wanda smoothed her thumb across his cheek. She loved how Vision needn't mention that particular moment because they both understood immediately. Nothing raised her spirits more than that night in the hotel. Learning these actions calmed his mind in Edinburgh, she found the opportunity to launch him into cloud nine once again. Vision responded, trailing his hands along her arms, marking every inch of skin as his. From the moment he saw her, Vision knew that the fortunate soul in the future would be ecstatic to share their eternal love with Wanda.

That fortunate soul was him this whole time.

They were only youthful heroes, according to the other Avengers and the majority of supporters. Yet, Wanda and Vision treated their love like a delicate mineral - a strong substance that bound the two together.

 _And what do you want?_

An unbeatable urge grew inside Vision. Yes, he urged the entire whole to notice the perfection in Wanda Maximoff. But Vision couldn't prevent that nagging inside him whenever another man gazed at her in a similar fashion to him. He wanted Wanda to be _his_. He needed to show her what he wanted. So, with her hands becoming an advantage across his face, Vision guided her palm until he enclosed her grip above the mind stone.

All of a sudden, a beautiful visage flashed before Wanda's eyes.

Her hand was entwined with Vision's as they strolled across a meadow. She giggled at Vision's zaffre sweater, matching her own yellow tea-length dress. Daisies and sunflowers tickled their arms; the sun cast a spotlight upon the couple. It took a moment until Wanda gasped at two pieces of jewelry presenting themselves on their fingers.

Wedding rings.

Resting their foreheads together, Wanda grinned, "If that's our future, where do we start?"

Vision found difficulty in controlling himself. How close their faces were between the heated moment; he wished they would remain in that position forever. Closing his eyes, Vision whispered, "Right here, where I know you're safe."

Before they could share more infatuated kisses, Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanov entered the room. The door handle caused Wanda to jerk, which raised Vision's disappointment, as shifted her face away. Yet, he found her adorable attempting to hide her blush from their teammates.

"Ah," Steve held up his hands in defense, surrendering to Wanda's embarrassed expression. "I'm sorry, but I wouldn't have walked in if I was aware that you two were about to fondue."

Laughter erupted from Natasha, and Wanda couldn't wish harder for the ground to swallow her body. Classic Steve Rogers. Wasn't there any way to achieve some peace away from their team? Anything: From the beginning of the Civil War, just when Wanda believed that she formed a perfect friendship, to the night when the Black Order attacked them. Surely, they'd been granted some sense of tranquility?

Guiding Steve back to the door, Natasha left before offering a small wink.

Sighing, Wanda connected her gaze with Vision once again. A curious glint seemed apparent in his eyes, as he pondered, "May I ask what _fondue_ means?"

Hoisting one leg over his waist, Wanda stared at Vision with half-lidded eyes and replied, "If that's what you want too, then I'm gonna have to lock that door."

Vision, still oblivious to this implied definition, still smirked at Wanda's playfulness. At long last, the perfection he pictured in his dreams became a reality. He could compliment her beauty in his mind, and she would finally hear them.


End file.
